Gunpowder is Flamable
by Lou Nebin
Summary: Music is a huge inspiration is most everything I do. This is a collection of stories and the songs that have inspired them. Rated T to be safe.
1. What Hurts The Most

**Disclaimer: I'm only saying this once, so listen closely. I do not own FullMetal Alchemist or any of it's characters. I'm mearly playing with them for my own enjoyment. I gain absolutely no profit for this fiction except for the pleasure of having people read it (I hope). I also don't own any of the songs in this fic. **

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><p>"<em>What hurts the most was being so close.<em>

_And having so much to say. And watching you walk away._

_Never knowin' what could have been._

_And not seeing that loving you_

_Is what I was tryin' to do."_

_~What Hurts the Most_

_Rascal Flatts_

He was gone.

Though they had won the battle, in the midst of it all, they had lost.

After everything that they'd fought so hard for…

After everything that they'd been through…

After everything that they'd sacrificed to make the world better; he wasn't going to be around to see it.

In the end, you could say that he achieved his goal- His team was back together and his knight was once again at his disposal. They'd all survived the promised day and he, no they, were about to make his dreams become reality. Grumman had gotten the post of Fuhrer and was in the process of changing the country to a democracy. Roy was supposed to be a major player in that game.

He was supposed to regain his vision and help set up that democracy.

He was supposed to come back.

He never did.

A tear escaped Riza's eye and she quickly wiped it away. Her uniform jacket was carelessly tossed on the ground beside her and she was sitting in the cold grave yard facing two tombstones while her back faced the entrance. Her knees were pulled up to her chest with her chin resting on them and her arms were wrapped around her middle. She faced the parallel graves of Roy Mustang and Maes Hughes (Burial plots purchased as a joke by naïve students freshly enrolled into the military academy).

His body was never found. When he didn't come back, he was assumed dead even though they knew he was stuck in the gate. She knew he was still alive, he had to be. Maybe it's part of the grieving process; denial. But her instincts screamed that he was still alive. Looking at it in reality, she knew that if he was, he would do everything in his power to be there. And maybe he was trying; it just didn't seem hard enough. All she knows is that it felt like everything had been taken from her. (Because he was her everything)

"It's a boy, Roy."

Her voice broke, as if the dam that was holding her tears at bay was cracking.

"Despite everything that happened, the doctor thinks he'll be healthy."

The wind blew and she felt a flutter in her stomach. (Almost as if he were answering, though she knew it wasn't possible)

Her knees dropped and crossed in front of her exposing her small baby bump. She was little over halfway through her pregnancy but was underweight. (She was being forced to eat by her comrades and doctor; because if they didn't force her, she wouldn't eat.) She'd found out not long after Roy had disappeared; after a long week of nausea at the sight of food and near fainting. Everyone, including herself, thought it was depression. She hardly showed up at work and was monitored around the clock by her friends before they forced her to see a doctor. ( They all knew the extent to which she would follow through with her promise. ) This baby changed everyone's way of thinking. Now, it was all she was living for. The team was surprised the most. They gossiped about their commanders' tryst but never thought that there may be some truth to their rumors.

As the wind blew, she closed her eyes and allowed her tears to fall freely, since there wasn't anyone around. She took a deep breath and held it when she heard a familiar voice. The deep resonance and cocky lit was hard to mistake, especially when you've heard it for most of your life. He said her name and it sounded like it came from right behind her. It was wrong though, he sounded worried. Still, she kept her eyes closed because she knew that if she opened them, it would go away. She felt something warm settle on her shoulder; the familiar weight of his hand. She had to be hallucinating now. God, how she wished that she wasn't. Her tears left warm tracks down her face as she released her breath and opened her eyes finding that there was a different scene in front of her.

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><p>There was no wind now. The room was dark with only a hint of light coming from the alarm clock on her table. She gasped and bolted up causing her covers to fall to her lap. The bed sank next to her and a hand settled on her swollen stomach while the other moved her hair from her face before resting on her cheek.<p>

"Relax Riza, it was just a dream." She turned her head to the source of the voice to meet the dark eyes of the person she was just grieving about. "Are you alright?" Roy's voice was worried and soothing in his attempt to calm her. His thumb moved to wipe away a fresh tear falling from her eye. Riza nodded and allowed her head to rest in his palm as he cupped her cheek.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Riza sighed and shook her head, not quite able to find her voice just yet. Roy stared into her eyes hoping to find anything out about her dream. He knew from the fear in her eyes that it was a nightmare and that it was about him since she started mumbling his name before she started crying. But, if she didn't want to talk about it, he wasn't going to force her.

Roy kissed her forehead before pulling her to lay back down with him. The arm that was rubbing her stomach went around her waist and rubbed her back while his other one pulled her close to his chest. He whispered in her ear little nothings like 'I'm right here' and 'I love you' hoping to calm her. When her tears stopped and her breathing calmed, after a couple of minutes, he spoke again.

"Sparky causing bad dreams now?" Riza chuckled lightly at the ridicules nickname that everyone called their unborn child.

"You have no idea," she answered. She pressed her lips into his needing to make sure that it was only a dream. The kiss was soft at first then heated up slightly when Roy's tongue slid across her bottom lip asking for entrance. She refused by breaking the kiss and cuddled back into his chest smiling.

"I love you," she said before closing her eyes and attempting to fall back to sleep. Roy smiled above her and held her closer.

"I love you too, Riza Mustang," he said before closing his eyes as well.

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><p><strong>I'm gonna try to cut down on the Authors Notes on this one. So I'll make this quick.<strong>

**1) This is basically stories inspired by songs on my iPod. It's mostly a personal challenge to get myself writing again. My goal is to write at least one story per song on my iPod per month (if I finish early I will post early). The part of the song quoted at the top is the part that inspired me, obviously. **

**2) Some credit also goes to jacksparrow589 who was the first to post a fic like this. Go read Chaotic Sonata and Dissonant Symphony. They are amazing drabbles! **

**3) Please review, I don't know what I'm doing wrong if no one tells me. So, i beg of you, if you have a chance, review. I do my best to respond to each one personally.**

**4) If you have any songs that you think I should write a story to, please, by all means let me know. If I've never heard it (which is very possible since I've lived under a rock my whole life ha) I will look it up. **

**5) I am not stopping On a Side Note. This is another side note. lol.**

**6) This is not Beta-d. I really need to get one of those.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Heavy In Your Arms

_**Heavy In Your Arms**_  
><em>"I was a heavy heart to carry<br>My beloved was weighed down  
>My arms around his neck<br>My fingers laced a crown  
>I was a heavy heart to carry<br>but he never let me down  
>When he held me in his arms,<br>my feet never touched the ground  
>I'm so heavy, heavy in your arms..."<em>

_~Florence and The Machine_

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><p>The desert heat was harsh, the taunting sun high in the sky and strong winds blowing sand and dust around but doing nothing to cool the air. The uniform made it worse- the heavy, blue wool trapping his body heat and the sand colored cloak being his only salvation from the sun. The hood was pulled far over his eyes, in an effort to become recluse, and he hid in plain sight among other soldiers doing the same. Unnoticed by others, his hands shook slightly under his cloak, though whether it was from not eating or the day's discovery, he didn't know.<p>

He couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that _she_ was here. This entire time she'd been watching over him and he remained ignorant of it. He cursed himself for being so stupid; he'd led her into this. He knew he should never have spoken of his naive dreams to her. Had he known this would happen, he never would have. Anger built up in his chest covering up the pain and sadness. Anger at himself, at her, at his country. He wanted to blame himself but could he really blame anyone? Could he really blame _her_when this was the same path he'd chosen as well?

Clouds rolled in, a rare sight for Ishval, signs of a night rain promising a temporary reprieve from the heat. Dust swirled around his feet as he abruptly got up and stormed to his tent. His mind raced with all sorts of questions as he stripped off his jacket and undershirt and flopped into his cot. He would get his answers later, much later when most soldiers were sleeping and couldn't overhear them. And, with that thought, he fell into an uneasy sleep.

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><p>Thunder clapped loudly close by and he jolted awake, grabbing for his gloves in an effort to block off an attack from the Ishvallan in his dreams. Sweat dripped off of him and clung to the dirty sheets of his plastic cot. He glanced over to the small alarm clock provided by the military itself. It read 1 a.m. Scrambling out of bed, he grabbed his uniform and threw it on haphazardly before stopping to think of whether she'd be asleep or not. His actions slowed and he took the time to dump the sand out of the boots he'd slept in.<p>

He wanted answers. No, he _needed_ answers but could he stand seeing her again? Let alone in the same state as him? Her tired eyes floated back into his head and his gut clenched at the sight of her with those killers eyes. Would it be right to demand answers after what he's done to her? The guilt ate at him and his heart won the battle between it and his brain. He, at least, needed closure or some masochistic form of it. No matter how wrong it was, he needed to see her, once more to speak with her. _Humans really are despicable creatures, _he thought as he made his way out of the canvas shelter.

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><p>The walk to her tent was quiet, aside from the footsteps of soldiers on guard duty, everyone else having retired to avoid the storm though the rain had yet to fall. The sniper unit was on the opposite side of the camp, her tent stationed in the middle. It was completely dark, the only light showing was that of the moon peeking over a nearby sand dune. He almost turned around. <em>Almost.<em>The wind picked up it's pace as he turned and a small figure caught his eye from the top of that hill. It was her. She always did like the calm before the storm, the few minutes of expectation before the first drops made contact with her skin. A meaningless memory, from another lifetime.

His feet moved before he could even register wanting to talk to her. It was like his body knew that she was there. That her presence was what he _needed_. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of her, the barrel of her gun pointed directly between his eyes. Her own dark orbs set in a glare, unmistakable by the moonlight. His gaze narrowed at her, again, speaking before he could stop himself.

"What are you doing here?"

"Shouldn't _I _be asking you that question?"

A wry smile formed on his lips. "I asked first."

She stowed her gun away and spun back around to look at the moon. "I'm protecting my country in the Ishval Rebellion." her answer was bitter and dry, one that had been rehearsed a thousand times by a thousand different soldiers on the front lines. His earlier anger returned, he didn't like that answer.

"That's not what I asked you," he was rude, he knew it. His voice held hostility that he couldn't quite control. "Why are you here? Why are you in the military? You should have been happily married with a kid by now, living in some small town., not killing off every Ishvalan in sight out here in this fucking wasteland!" His voice rose with every word he spoke and he only noticed that he was yelling when he finished his rant. Not that he cared. "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING FOLLOWING ME HERE?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Major Mustang." her voice was full of a venom that he'd never heard from her before and the moon glowing above them highlighted a new, darker look in her narrowed eyes. Somewhere in the middle of his rant she had turned to face him and, though she hadn't raised her voice like him, he knew she was angry. "I'm here to protect the people of this country. My reasons aren't any different than yours."

Rain finally started to drizzle down around them cooling both the air and his temper. A lump formed in his throat and his eyes widened at her. She was still staring him down, her bangs starting to cling to her face. "Did you ever stop to think that, maybe I don't want the husband and kids and dog in the back yard? Maybe I want to do my part for a better future, just like a young man I once knew who believed he could do the same." His mouth was dry but he cleared his throat and tried to swallow the large lump lodged there. His anger had dissipated fast and he wanted nothing more than to speak to her normally again and be the close friends they had become before he left. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke again, "This isn't protecting the country at all. This is genocide; how is that building a better future? How could you _want_ to be like that?" His knees gave way and he crumpled into the mud bringing her down with him. He couldn't distinguish his own tears from the rain but was sure that his expression must have been anguished enough. Because, when she touched his arm and he raised his gaze to her face, her eyes were marginally warmer, their depth resembling those from the days of their youth. _They would never be the same, _he realized with another pang of guilt. Her arms found their way around his neck and she pulled his head to her shoulder.

"None of us knew what we were getting into when we signed up for this. All we can do now is survive. And, maybe, make the best of it if at all possible." Her next words were whispered in his ear, hardly distinguishable over the sound of the rain.

"If anyone can do that, I believe it's you, Sir."

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><p><strong>BIIIIGGG THANKS to my new Beta SammyQuill! She made this story soooooo much more amazing than it was to begin with! Thank you. Arigato. Gracias. Dankschen. Merci. Ta. Cheers .Grazie. Mahalo. And that's about all the languages that I know. Thanks for reading and please review if you have a chance! <strong>


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